Teatime with Ozpin
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: Some staff monitor the students in the Emerald Forest. Two others, namely Ozpin and Glynda, take a break… but one, or more, of them is a little more concerned with baked goods than the students' fate. Mostly fluffy, but not actually that shippy (could be read as friendship). T for reasons. I do not own RWBY!


"Really, Ozpin, I'll never understand your fascination with baked goods."

Ozpin glanced up to see Glynda leaning against his study wall, watching him coolly from afar. He sighed, setting down his platter of cookies fresh out of the oven, and sank into his chair, daintily plucking one from the tray and taking a bite. _Sugar, _he thought, satisfied, and took a sip of tea. _Simple and sweet—a good snack to go with the perfect beverage._

"Honestly," she continued, exasperation tinging her voice; she looked away as though the sight of Ozpin finishing his first treat was scandalous. "Today is Initiation Day! Are your priorities so skewed as to lead you to believe we aren't on a strict time schedule? How can you enjoy tea and—and _cookies _when some of our students may well die this morning?"

Ozpin regarded Glynda with mild interest, trying to determine whence her annoyance stemmed. "Are you really so worried about our students? I'm sure they'd be touched if someone told them," he added, picking up another cookie and raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked into her eyes, daring her to remark further. "The admittance process accepts only the best of the best budding fighters for this academy, which means that most, if not all, of our students have been in combat scenarios before. They know what they're doing."

Remembering the blonde boy's ineptitude—_Mr. Arc, wasn't it?—_he made a mental note to visit the hospital wing if he was missing when the challenge ended, munching on another cookie. _Chocolate chip, _he thought, unable to suppress a small smile. _Less good with tea, _he admitted as he took another sip of his drink. _But still delicious._

"Not all of them!" exclaimed Glynda, stepping forward as her grip tightened somewhat on her wand. Ozpin always wondered why she had forged it in the shape of a crop, unless she had some tendencies he wasn't sure he wanted to know about. "_Some_ of them are hopelessly incompetent; I don't know how they managed to get into our school—"

"Miss Goodwitch," interrupted Ozpin, finishing off his second cookie and picking up a third. "You will kindly refrain from referring to any of my students as 'hopelessly incompetent'." He sipped at his tea, setting down the mug and looking at Glynda in as severe a manner as he was capable of while enjoying his snack. "As I'm sure you know, I am the one who ultimately decides which students will be admitted, so by implying that they're sub-standard, you insult me."

Glynda opened her mouth as though to retort, but closed it again abruptly and stalked towards Ozpin's desk, slapping her wand into her hand repeatedly in a way that could be considered menacing. "How many times have I asked you to call me Glynda?" she snapped; Ozpin smiled serenely. _Oatmeal raisin, _sighed Ozpin mentally. _Not too sweet, not too plain—and it goes well with tea, too._

"Are you even listening to me?" demanded Glynda, pacing. "Honestly, whenever you're having your tea and—and _cookies_, you're always so… detached," she added, pausing to look at Ozpin critically before resuming her restless walk. "You're hardly recognizable as a professional in this state!"

Ozpin finished his third cookie and debated selecting a fourth, but his stomach determined that more tea was quite enough for the moment as he poured a second cup. "Would you care for some tea?" he offered, brandishing the teapot at her; she looked almost horrified as she shook her head.

"_What _is that teapot doing on your desk?" she demanded. "I thought we'd lost that! What else have you got in here? I think I see the book I lent you months ago that you never returned!" She leaned on Ozpin's desk, glaring at him.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow as he set the teapot down again. "You seem rather concerned about the contents of my study," he observed. "That would be, dear Miss Goodwitch, why this is my study, not yours—and why I am the headmaster, and not you. Cool this down, won't you?" he added, handing his mug to Glynda as he rose. "I need to refill this teapot."

Glynda muttered something under her breath, glancing down at the tea and looking vaguely disgusted. "If you insist," she said quietly, but still audibly, as Ozpin picked up the teapot and walked out the door.

* * *

When Ozpin returned to his study quite some time later, having not only refilled the teapot but also checked in with the staff monitoring the initiation challenge, he paused in the doorway to observe the situation before him. Glynda sat in his chair, shoeless feet on his desk and sipping his tea, reading the book he had borrowed from her.

_And there was a gingersnap in her mouth._

Ozpin leaned against the doorway, regarding her with mild amusement, as she continued to be absorbed in the book. Her clothes were neat and impeccable as always, save for a few ginger crumbs decorating her low-cut blouse; though she wore no shoes, her black nylons were still on, as always: Ozpin had never seen her without them.

He cleared his throat slightly to attract Glynda's attention; she jumped so badly that half her cookie promptly fell from her mouth to her chest, and she practically dropped the book on Ozpin's desk. "Henkel Emmanuel Ambrose Digg Ozpin!" she exclaimed, after swallowing the rest of her cookie and glancing down (color heightened) before determining it would be indecent to find the other half of her cookie in front of him. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Miss Goodwitch!" began Ozpin, walking forward lightly and plucking his half-full mug from Glynda's still-shocked hands. "I shouldn't be required to knock if I'm entering my own office," he finished, looking out the window to give Glynda a chance to find the other half of her cookie.

"Thank you," said Glynda eventually, sounding a little more composed, and Ozpin took that to be the signal that it was safe for him to look at her again, which he did, only to find her struggling (uncharacteristically awkwardly) to get back into her high heels.

"I suppose I can always use your love of gingersnaps as blackmail, so all is forgiven… as long as you left some for me," he sighed, advancing and offering his arm to her in order to steady her; she regarded him suspiciously before accepting his help. It took more than a minute for her to lace up her boots, and Ozpin wondered whether he should enforce a dress code for the staff, since Glynda tended to go with clothing that wasn't actually that acceptable for professionals. _Not that it doesn't suit her, _he added grudgingly.

She released his arm after awhile, straightening up and brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Thank you," she said again, but could not meet his eyes; Ozpin raised his eyebrows and checked the plate of cookies suspiciously. _Not one single gingersnap left!_

"I may have to dismiss you," he muttered, then glared at Glynda, who backed up a step or so warily. Ozpin couldn't suppress a smile at her reaction; it was refreshing to know he still had the ability to make someone so stern as Glynda flinch, even if he was joking. "Don't take it so seriously," he sighed as she still looked shocked; her expression became one of relief. "I could never find someone so well-adapted to your job as you… even if you are a little messy," he added.

Glynda frowned. "Excuse me?" she asked sharply. "I am not—"

"My dear Miss Goodwitch, I'm not in the least implying you're slovenly in manners," interrupted Ozpin, blinking innocently. "You have a crumb on your cheek, that's all."

"Oh," muttered Glynda, looking to Ozpin for help. His hand automatically moved itself up to her cheek and brushed the crumb away before it occurred to him what he had done: she reacted instinctively, raising her wand and slapping him across the face.

Both backed away, each scandalized by what they had done to the other, and there was a quivering moment of silence before their eyes met and they burst into laughter, Glynda's eyes sparkling (something Ozpin had rarely seen but loved to witness).

When they had sobered, Ozpin sighed. "Now that we've effectively destroyed any semblance of professionalism we once had," he began, "I suppose we ought to see how our students are getting along…"

"Yes," agreed Glynda, leading the way out. "Though somehow I think their problems will be a little more serious than stolen cookies."

**((First RWBY fanfic! I don't know why I ship this, I just do. Credit to my friend for the epic title.))**


End file.
